


You Want This

by dollylux



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Cock Tease, First Time, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Public Sex, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergio's new to the team. Alluring as all bright, shiny, new (young) things are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Want This

"Need anything, Ramos? I'm heading into the kitchen." Iker pushes himself up from his recliner, empty bottle in hand, his eyes only on Sergio and none of the other guys in the room. David grins up at Iker and nudges him with his foot as he passes.

"What, do we not exist? Do we not have needs, Iker?"

Iker grins over at David, kicking at him before turning his attention back to Sergio who is seated at the counter of the bar next to Guti, both of them hunched over their respective beers, eyes trained on the flat screen on the wall like good boys. Sergio turns to look at Iker, blinking a couple of times to clear his mind of basketball and to give himself time to replay Iker's question. Iker smiles at him easily, hip cocked and ghosting against Sergio's thigh. He glances up at the television where they've zoomed in on a pretty cheerleader with a pouty, painted mouth and Iker is almost leering now. Sergio lifts his eyes to the television and smirks.

"Looks like she'd give good head."

Iker's eyes snap down to Sergio again, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"What makes you say that?"

"Her mouth," Sergio offers, his eyelashes unbelievably long in profile as he watches her smile and writhe and dance in front of the whole stadium, lifting his beer to his own mouth. "She's got cocksucking lips. Nice and full and soft."

"Mm," is all that comes from Iker's lips and he still hasn't looked back up at the cheerleader. Sergio looks away when the game goes to commercial and he meets Iker's eyes and gives him a bright, quick grin.

"Sorry, what did you ask me?"

"Oh, just wondering if you wanted anything from the kitchen. I was gonna go get some more food, and..." Iker trails off, lifting a hand to brush his fingers over Sergio's temple, nudging the hair behind his ear. He tickles them down the shell of his ear and over his jaw and he makes it so casual somehow, so innocent that Sergio only blushes a little, only warms under the attention and doesn't get even a little flustered.

"I want something sweet, I think." Sergio rubs his lips together as he tries to think about what he wants, envisioning chocolate cake or maybe cinnamon buns or a hundred other things that couldn't possibly be just magically waiting for him in the kitchen (though with David Beckham's cook, it wouldn't take all that long, really). Iker's hand is on Sergio's shoulder now, sweeping down his back and flirting across the bare slip of skin between where his shirt ends and his jeans begin. Sergio arches out of instinct and he does it gently, distractedly. They smile at each other and Iker lightly drags his nails over Sergio's skin just so he can see him shiver.

"How sweet?"

Sergio's eyes finally lid for that, growing a little heavier and he can feel the flirtation now and it makes him feel warm. He thinks quickly about how much he loves Iker when he's had a few drinks. He turns to face him a little now, turning on the bar stool and Iker is suddenly (so, so easily) standing between his splayed legs and they're grinning now.

"As sweet as I can have it."

"A mouth like that needs something sweet." Iker leans forward, mouth brushing Sergio's ear, nose bumping up along his cheekbone and his breath is loud and his cheek is a little scratchy and god he smells so. fucking. good. "Or something salty."

He's gone just like that, up the stairs and Sergio watches him go, his eyes wide and his cheeks are burning hot now. He waits for all of ten seconds before he's slipping from the stool, mumbling something about a bathroom to a roomful of men who don't care and he takes the stairs in twos.

The kitchen is expansive and modern and bright and Iker seems to be the only warm thing in it. He's sucking on the pad of his thumb as he stares into the open refrigerator, the bowl of spaghetti on the island the obvious reason for Iker tasting his thumb. Sergio walks right up to the bowl and sweeps his thumb through it, just like Iker had probably done, and pops it into his mouth, sucking it clean. Iker turns to see who the intruder is and he smiles to himself when he sees Sergio, closing the fridge door, his tummy's wants forgotten. His eyes trail over Sergio's body, admiring his pert little ass in tight jeans before Sergio turns and hops up onto the island, swiping a fork from the drainboard and swirling spaghetti noodles around it.

"Hungry?" He offers the perfect forkful of spaghetti to Iker who has taken the bait seamlessly and is standing between his legs again, his hands spread out on either side of Sergio's body and he opens his mouth as an obedient reply, trying not to smile when Sergio does, when he feeds Iker the spaghetti and pulls the fork from his mouth to lick it clean himself. Iker chews, enjoying the sight of Sergio's shockingly pink tongue licking at his matching mouth and by the time he swallows, his hands have slipped up to Sergio's thighs, rubbing at the hard, lean muscles through expensive denim.

"I've had too much to drink, I think."

Sergio smiles at him for that, returning the fork to the bowl but he leaves it there this time so he can concentrate on Iker, savoring this moment for what it is and not letting himself think any further than this. He runs his splayed hands up Iker's arms, tugging gently at his sleeves and then rubbing beneath them. Iker pushes his hands up Sergio's thighs and spreads them over his hips.

"Why's that?" Sergio tips his head to the side, one side of his mouth lifted in such a sweet little smirk and he moves with Iker's hands when they tug him forward just a little to test his pliancy.

"Because you're looking so fucking good to me right now that I'm having to restrain myself from..." Iker trails off, his cheeks pink now and he breaks eye contact to look away, letting out a breath of embarrassed laughter. "Nevermind."

Sergio continues to smile at him, pleased with this new admission. He runs his hands up Iker's shoulders and neck to cup his cheeks and then he's pushing his fingers into Iker's hair, gripping it very gently and Iker steps closer to him, pulling Sergio closer to the edge of the counter. Iker's eyes return to Sergio's and he's staring up at him in barely disguised lust.

"I don't just look good to you because you're drunk, Iker."

Iker's eyes flutter when Sergio's nails run across his scalp and he swallows thickly to keep from moaning. His hands have found Sergio's back and he's rubbing at the small of it, fingers dipping under the waist of his jeans to tease at his tailbone, to tease himself with the flushed curve of the top of Sergio's ass. "No?"

Sergio tightens his legs around Iker, the insides of his thighs digging into his ribs and his socked feet lift to cross just above Iker's ass. He shakes his head and pulls Iker forward with a commanding little tug, goosebumps tickling up on his skin when he feels Iker's nose ghosting his neck, when he hears the sound of him inhaling him deeply.

"No," Sergio murmurs into his hair, curling and writhing under Iker's hands as they run all over his body, pushing up under his shirt and along his neck and down as far as his calves. "You think I can't feel those eyes all the time? Do you like what you see, Iker?" Sergio pauses when Iker presses rough fingers against his nipples, when he twists them so sweetly, he hides the smallest whimper in Iker's hair. "You want this?"

"Jesus, Sergio," Iker growls against his neck, stepping up on the tips of his toes and pulling Sergio against him completely, scooping him up onto his body so he can press him back against the counter, moving the bowl as far away as he can get it. He pushes Sergio's shirt up to expose his toned stomach that still looks boyishly soft somehow and he steps back out of the cradle of his legs to press his mouth to it, letting his lips drag as he kisses all over his stomach, hands framing and tugging just to feel Sergio arch up into him. He shoves his shirt farther up and sinks his teeth into one of the nipples that he's already made tender and Sergio cries out, forgetting to be quiet and so the sound echoes all over the kitchen. Sergio runs a hand down Iker's chest, the other cradling the back of his head to keep that mouth where it has taken up sucking. He flips the button of Iker's jeans open, forcing the zipper down just enough to give himself the room to push his hand down into Iker's pants, slipping into his underwear to wrap around his cock, his fingers playing over his slit so that he can dampen the first stroke. Iker bucks up into his hand, his hips still young and his body still wanting and reckless and he slicks wet kisses across Sergio's chest and feeds at the other nipple. Sergio keeps his grip loose and almost playful, his fingers teasing at the underside of his cock and at his tightening balls which he squeezes and twists ("All that for me?" he whispers maybe to himself).

A loud approach of sound is suddenly apparent to them and they can hear Guti's raucous laughter as six feet clatter up the stairs. Iker breaks away from Sergio's damp, flushed chest and stands up straight, his fear of being caught faltering momentarily as Sergio's grip suddenly tightens and his strokes become a little more intentional. He busies himself by fixing Sergio's shirt, running a hand through his own hair and he finally looks down at where Sergio's wrist is digging against his zipper, at where his hand is in the trap of his jeans and stroking him quickly into a frenzy. He's panting harder with every stroke and his hand shakes as it clasps around Sergio's wrist to still him, to beg him to stop and also not to stop. They hear the door open and their eyes meet, Iker's eyes wide and panicked and Sergio's dilated, hungry. Sergio removes his hand with great reluctance and Iker zips his pants up hurriedly, turning away from Sergio and pulling the refrigerator back open, staring blindly at its contents as he tries to catch his breath. Sergio makes a lazy grab for the bowl of spaghetti, smiling over at Guti and Raúl and David who are in an animated conversation, apparently involving the game but Sergio couldn't care less. Guti snatches the bowl from Sergio before he can take another bite and he grins at him as he leans against the counter.

"Half-time," he informs Sergio who nods, whose eyes are on the back of Iker's head and not on Guti at all. The kitchen falls oddly quiet as Iker turns back around, pleased with his choice of a bottle of water. Sergio can only smile demurely as the other three take in the sight of Iker with his hair still rumpled despite his brave attempts, with his jeans unbuttoned and tented and his mouth deep pink and swollen and a little wet with spit. They turn in tandem to look at Sergio who seems so innocent sitting there on the counter, his rock hard nipples that are completely visible through his paperthin white t-shirt the only giveaway on his part. David is the first to laugh, clapping Iker on the back which only sends Iker into a fit of flustered shyness, making him duck his head and stare hard at his bottle of water. Raúl folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the marble counter, eyebrows raised, waiting to see how Iker is going to handle this.

"First door on the left down the hall is a guest room, Ramos. You'd better finish what you started," David smiles, taking the bottle of water from Iker and with that he heads back toward the stairs. Raúl follows, pausing just long enough to run the back of a crooked finger over Sergio's still damp hand, maybe savoring the feel of him but he doesn't look back. Guti is cheshire cat grinning at Sergio, licking his lips clean of sauce and he shakes his fork sternly at him.

"Yeah. That's the Real Madrid way."


End file.
